Three in the Morning [Germany]
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Post by Belarus - Natalya Arlovskaya on Jul 22, 2015 22:18:26 GMT -5
She needed to clear her head, so naturally, she found herself in a place where nothing had the time to process at all. That wasn't what Natalya had intended to do, of course. She hadn't meant to wind up in Poland of all places (still couldn't find the little bastard), and she certainly hadn't intended to end up on the battlefield. But she needed to think. She needed to clear her head because after a high-strung meeting after China's complete fuck-up after seeing him to confront him over other things after anger at her brother after talking too much after everything, she just needed to wind down somehow.
No, standing the middle of the war wasn't really a very good way to wind down, but it was mechanical. Routine, it was routine, it was a game. She knew the rules better here. Natalya was no diplomat, Natalya was no negotiator. This wasn't home, either, where even in her locked room, she found she felt more and more on edge. Maybe it was the way her brother paced when no one was looking, the footsteps reminding her of a much worse time. Maybe it was the way her sister kept her head down but held a something, no, not just a something, a burning fire in her eyes. Maybe it was the way that Toris did... everything... now, like he was doomed. Maybe it all just made her feel more doomed.
Call her a coward, but she'd needed to run away, overwhelm herself with things she could handle and dispatch one by one. She'd dismissed herself to the front because where else was she supposed to go? She couldn't go home (she had no fucking idea where that was anymore). Here, even though her senses would be on fire, her muscles burning, her control in tightly-wound-knots, well, here, at least, there weren't the mind games that her life was turning into. Later. Later she'd figure out what to do with herself. Later she'd figure something out.
(Natalya had always thought she was ready for this, but more and more, she felt the need to feel alive-)
She unceremoniously and silently slit a man's neck, ducking under a bullet the next minute. She pulled out a pistol (less elegant, but more efficient) and shot another. The short cracks of both guns pierce the air, shattering it for a moment, before something nearing an erie silence slides in. The actual fighting was winding down. The air still smelled like gunpowder and death, but the shouting and the people, there was less of that now. There weren't the flashes on the horizon anymore. She could almost imagine the stars through the buildings they were shooting around and the smog that sank across the air. It was late. She wasn't sure how late, but it was late. Technically, she was just keeping watch, making sure the enemy didn't get past and ambush them during the night. They weren't going to, but Natalya had found a few anyway, just because she needed something.
The air was oddly quiet. She sank back against a building and watched the smog swirl in the night. The air was as thick with spirits as it wasn't. Soldiers rarely made themselves spirits. They rarely had a strong enough reason to. They'd done their duty, and even those who hadn't enlisted on their own, well, they were rarely the sort of creatures that had the willpower to keep on going anyway. That wasn't to say there weren't spirits, though. There were plenty. But nothing noteworthy, nothing dangerous, nothing interesting, so she didn't really let it cloud her vision.
She could probably go sleep, but she didn't really want to. She felt painfully reluctant to close her eyes, despite the fact that, somewhere, she was starting to get a headache, and that her lungs burned, and that she was shaking like a leaf, a fact that would be more noticeable if she didn't keep on shifting her weight subtly and pacing and doing tiny little habits that drew attention away from her fingers, drew attention away from the shivering hem of her uniform. She really, really didn't want to sleep right now, so she needed something to do.
She did wonder if someone had noticed the knife wounds, though. If any Nations were here, they'd almost certainly know it was her. Very few people could bring knives to gunfights and survive, let alone clearly win. Ah, well, let them come. At least then she'd have something to do. Her knife slides around in her hand as she watches the not-quite-still night, listening for the sound of footsteps, or movement, or gunfire, or something. Just how late was it, anyway...?
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Post by Germany - Ludwig Wilhelm on Jul 24, 2015 17:22:41 GMT -5
While it is, indeed, foolish to bring only a knife to a gunfight, it's a good idea to have one along in addition to your gun. Especially if your gun is any form of longer gun like a rifle or a shotgun meant to be accurate over a distance, like the ones normally provided to soldiers, because sometimes your enemies aren't at a distance. Sometimes your enemies end up being extremely close and being able to simply stab them is very useful, and that's why knives are pretty standard equipment for soldiers. Still, the vast majority of soldiers die from being shot, and finding one who died from a knife wound is relatively rare. So it's not merely that which catches Germany's attention, but the fact that there are several and that they aren't the clumsy wounds inflicted by a soldier desperate to kill someone before they're killed themselves but the clean marks of an expert. A little process of elimination to rule out the extremely unlikely causes, and the remaining picture is as clear as if they were wounds caused by a battleaxe.
Germany had been out scouting when he found the tell-tale knife wounds, wanting to get a first-hand look at the area where the battle continued - no longer raging, but not entirely finished for the night in spite of the late hour. With the invention of night-vision goggles and such it's no longer completely necessary to stop the fighting because of the time of the day, but still the soldiers on both sides need their rest and battles tend to grind to a halt every evening unless one side or the other specifically makes plans to allow it to continue.
Though it's not entirely to see what's keeping the fighting going in this sector that brings him here, but also the desire to give himself at least the illusion that he's doing something. After being treated the way he was by Russia, his desire to win this war has somehow managed to get even more personal than it was before. So if there's soldiers still left to be killed, then it's satisfying to be the one doing it - never mind the fact that his individual contribution on the battlefield pales in comparison to what he accomplishes in strategy meetings. It's just that it can be difficult to get the sense that you're actually doing all that much when you stand around discussing maps - especially when you've spent a couple decades looking at virtually the same map.
Though he's hardly thinking about maps when he silently inspects his latest find - another soldier with clear knife wounds. She must be very close. He hasn't the slightest idea of what he'll do or say when he finds her, but he does know that he should find her. The other option would be to ignore the fact that she's obviously around here somewhere, and he's not prepared to do that. Of course, that means that he needs to track her down - a potentially dangerous thing to do. Not that he has to fear permanent death, but he'd really rather not die today even so. In fact, he'd rather not be harmed by her at all while he's at it. So once he gets the sense from the evidence that he's coming close, he's cautious. And when he's cautious, he can become quite difficult to detect - he's no novice when it comes to sneaking around. But then again, he presumes that Natalya is no novice at being snuck up on so it really depends on who spots who first.
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Post by Belarus - Natalya Arlovskaya on Jul 26, 2015 22:00:00 GMT -5
She was cold, though she didn't notice it, wouldn't have noticed it if there was more to do. The winter was slowly melting away, and had already melted some in Belarus. But here, when the sun had long set from the sky, Natalya could still see her breath as she stood and waited for something to come to her. Perhaps she should go seek something out. But no- it's late at night and she's trembling too much. She'll take things as they come to her, take them until she collapsed, but she wasn't going to hurt herself worse by going out to find more things to fight. She coughs. At least she can't catch a cold, because that would be just what she needed, on top of everything else. Natalya's not even sure why she's chosen now to suddenly become so much of a mess. Not that she wasn't to begin with, but why is it that only now everything wanted to collapse in on her again. It had been going, well, not well, but okay. She could make it keep on going okay. She simply had to reserve the right to be upset and unstable sometimes, too. She simply had to reserve time and later, how late at night was it now, anyway? It was probably technically "morning" now, technically "tomorrow". She should probably check the time. That's when she catches movement out of the corner of her eye. At first, she ignores it. Another spirit she should pay no attention to, maybe another dead soldier, another image to ignore, another thing to cloud her vision. God. Sometimes, she hated this. This was one of those times. She had enough things clouding her vision without the things that no one else could see (except maybe Japan could, too, which she didn't quite understand but would plainly accept as truth- the way his eyes moved, he couldn't be lying). Then, however, the movement tries to catch her attention, and she sees who it is. They point. She whispers back, so faint that it can't be heard over the faint, infrequent fighting. "Hostile?"Yes."Which way?"There."Help me aim."Yes."Tell me when to fire."...now.In a single, smooth motion, she raises her gun and pulls the trigger towards whoever it was who was trying to sneak up on her, whoever it was that Natalya couldn't quite see in the dark. She had to admit that this was cheating, but there was nothing wrong with a second set of eyes, she'd found. She'd prefer to throw a knife, but, as of the moment, she didn't trust her shaky hand, and she didn't know what armor the enemy she was facing was wearing. So in that single, completely untelegraphed motion, she aimed and fired instead. Normally, this bullet would have driven its way through the enemy's head and Natalya would put down the smoking gun, dismiss her guide, go back to waiting. However, this is about when things started to conspire against Natalya. Several things went wrong at once. As she fired the gun, her hand gave a particularly ill-timed twitch that almost certainly set her aim off by some ridiculous margin. Added to that, Natalya suddenly felt that the person getting closer was a Nation, which meant that the slightly off-aim probably meant that she'd both missed altogether and completely alerted them to her presence. Well. This, she supposed, was what she got for being up at god-knows-when at night while she was sick. "блядзь," she hissed, eyes flashing as she reloaded her pistol to shoot again. As she reloaded, though, her eyes, fairly well-adjusted to the night but no longer graced with the slim pair of night-vision goggles that she'd shattered at some point while fighting and never bothered to replace, finally caught sight of exactly who she was shooting at. Germany. Of course. While she was having one of her more sick moments in the middle of the night. This was very much not her night. (Some part of her still thought this: at least I'm not having issues at home, where I could easily be caught. It didn't make her feel much better.) блядзь = bliadz = fuck |
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Post by Germany - Ludwig Wilhelm on Jul 28, 2015 18:07:55 GMT -5
How many times has someone tried to shoot Germany in the head? He doesn't even try to remember. Either they hit or they missed and either way he had more important things to do than to keep score. Unless, of course, they hit him really good, in which case he was made temporarily incapable of keeping track of anything at all. But it suffices to say that it's happened a large number of times, and since he's going the direction that he believes that Natalya is, he's keeping alert for that very thing. Well, that plus the perhaps equally possible thrown dagger, depending on how close she is.
Still, in spite of his caution Natalya could probably shoot him - he may have the reflexes of a nation, but there's only so much one can do about a well-aimed bullet. A poorly aimed bullet, on the other hand, is easy - between its own deviation and the extent of his reflex, it misses him by the proverbial mile. His next action is an almost reflexive dodge for some cover - thanks to the bullet, now he knows exactly which direction she is and it's infinitely easier to take cover when you know at least that much.
Once there, he actually has a moment to think, and he takes it. Let's see now - what's the best strategy for this situation? This is a far cry from his last meeting with Russia's sister - he's armed, healthy, and unencumbered by chains. And he would have expected her aim to be much better than that, except that he's already been suspicious about the state of her well-being and so this is simply more evidence. Weighing his options, he finally calls out, "A choice for you, Natalya: Ve leave our veapons out of it, ve talk until ve're both finished, ve go our separate vays. Or, no holds are barred and vinner takes all."
He knows which one he'd choose if given those choices, but he knows somewhat who he's talking to so even as he's speaking he's also using the moment to double check his gun and mentally review the terrain between the two of them. He didn't get an extremely clear look at it, what with almost getting shot and all, but he remembers a few elements that may help him.
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Post by Belarus - Natalya Arlovskaya on Jul 28, 2015 22:40:45 GMT -5
Natalya was just going to have to go ahead and say it to herself: that shot was terrible. Beyond terrible, actually, because while she could only clearly see for a few moments before he fell into cover, she could also clearly see that she hadn't hit him at all. She hadn't even come close. That alone was... worrying. Normally, Natalya's aim was spot-on. It had to be. She had to have technique down for just about any fighting style she chose to use because she was never going to win by sheer strength alone. As a result, her aim could be uncanny. In this case, it really should have been, since she'd very nearly had help aiming this shot.
What she really needed to do, Natalya decided, was to take some time later to specifically train while she was in one of her worse conditions. Compensate. She thought she'd already gotten some of that down, too, but then again, she supposed there was only so much that she could compensate for at any given time. It just felt almost like a strange sort of betrayal when she couldn't trust her own well-trained muscle memory to hold her in place anymore. It made her feel weak, vulnerable, exposed. She didn't like it. She especially didn't like that someone else had seen it. She could always chalk it up to her lack of night vision, but anyone who'd really seen her fight would know that was a lie.
Germany wasn't the only one who ducked for cover. Natalya slid into cover, herself, her violent indigo eyes glaring out towards where she'd seen Germany. She was well aware that she was in a bad situation. Germany was strong. That was one thing Natalya had absolutely nothing of. If she could trust her aim, she'd trust herself more to destroy the younger Nation- for Germany was, indeed, younger than her, or at least, he was as far as she was aware. He hadn't been around, after all, while his brother was busy being a Teutonic dick, and Natalya certainly could remember that. However, Natalya wasn't entirely certain she did trust her aim, a disconcerting feeling.
Unfortunately, though, it was also very, very late at night, or perhaps very, very early in the morning. Take a pick. Natalya had no clue. If Natalya was a little bit more pragmatic at the moment, she might have taken Germany's deal. She would have been lying, of course, and she would have had several knives with her. However, despite the perception she sometimes gave off, Natalya wasn't actually the pragmatic one in the Russian household. She was often the most pragmatic in a given situation, but she wasn't really. That was mostly all Toris. While she could be forced into a role of pragmatism, late at night when she'd not had enough sleep for far too long and on a battlefield where she'd been intending to drown herself in fighting, well, that wasn't the time.
Therefore, Natalya, irritated and originally having come out here to stab things, not to talk, simply responded "Shut up," in an irritated voice. Actually, it was irritated in more than one way, because she was instantly regretting trying to talk so loudly. Her throat burnt and her voice had cracked and scraped along the edges. She was also wondering if she should go back on her decision, but not really. Was she aware that she'd probably lose this fight? Yes. Did she care? Not particularly. She didn't feel like talking, and this was as good a way to avoid it as any.
With that said, she suddenly sucked out of cover and, moving surprisingly gracefully for someone who kept on landing on shaky feet, moved in a zig-zag, hard to catch pattern towards Germany. She'd be better off close-range. At least then her own aim would stop mattering so much. She just had to get there first. Somehow.
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Post by Germany - Ludwig Wilhelm on Jul 31, 2015 17:03:37 GMT -5
Hearing her two-word response, Germany assumes that she wants the latter. Well, that's unfortunate! He'd greatly have preferred the former - he really rather not have to resort to such violence. Well, not enough to have simply left her alone when he realized she was on the battlefield, but he knows how the odds on this are stacked - especially if that shot a moment ago wasn't some sort of one-time freak accident. Trust her to not care about the odds, though.
Immediately considering the best way to ends this since she's unwilling to simply talk, his ponderings of possible tactics are immediately set aside when he hears her footsteps suddenly coming toward him. It doesn't take him much pondering to figure out how to respond to that - it's unfortunately very straightforward. Crouching, he rolls sideways out of his cover until he's flat on his stomach, his gun held in front of him. He's not a small man, but he presents about as small of a target as he can without cover in this position - most of his body is hidden behind his head, arms, and shoulders.
Once rolled into place, he fires. Unlike her, he still has his night-vision goggles so the darkness is no protection, and anything that he can see he can shoot, generally speaking. He may be younger than Natalya, but that doesn't mean that he hasn't had plenty of time and reason to master such basic weaponry as a rifle. And while he's fairly confident that he could take her hand-to-hand if he has to, it would all be simpler from his standpoint if he can avoid that by simply getting her now.
Since his goal is to stop her instead of kill her, he doesn't limit himself to possible kill shots - if he can simply injure her to the point where she can't effectively fight back or run, that will do. In fact it would be more favorable if he didn't have to kill her right now. So his first attempt is to get her spine or legs, but if that doesn't work he'll keep firing until she either drops or manages to reach him - they're not so far apart that he has time for very many shots but hopefully he doesn't need that many.
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Post by Belarus - Natalya Arlovskaya on Aug 9, 2015 16:43:10 GMT -5
It hit Natalya, just a moment after deciding to simply go on the attack instead of taking Germany's offer to talk, that this was probably a monumentally bad idea. If it wasn't for the fact that she wanted to do just about anything but talk, maybe... But no. She could do this. She doubted that Germany had really expected her to just talk, anyway, since she was out here. Then again, maybe not. Very few people actually knew Natalya for Natalya, after all. Sometimes, she doubted anyone even did.
...she just couldn't stop thinking depressing thoughts out here, could she? So much for clearing her head. She shook her head and focussed. When she did that, she could clear away the thoughts some. She could clear them away and focus on stabbing Germany. She was pretty sure she'd already done that, several times, in fact. And then he'd gotten broken out, but that had been expected, really. Getting another opportunity to stab him, she supposed, was just waiting to happen. Although, he did have a bad habit of turning up when Natalya already felt like stabbing things. Really, it was entirely possible that, had he turned up earlier in the day, Natalya would have been a bit more reasonable.
The main problem, she realizes quickly as she rapidly changes direction, is that his aim is, while not scarily so, very, very on-point. Goddamnit. She can barely see him, but she can bet that he's wearing night-vision goggles. She'd make use of her own kind of night-vision, but they were being summarily unuseful. The problem there was that a lot of spirits, especially lower ones, had shit reaction time. They really didn't have a reason they needed good reaction time, so they simply wouldn't notice things fast enough in this situation.
Combined with the fact that Natalya was at the end of her rope for the night (whether she'd admit it or not), her disadvantage was pretty near insurmountable. That didn't mean she wouldn't try, though. She notices pretty quickly that Germany's mostly aiming to incapacitate, not kill. He didn't know quite how difficult that would be with her, at the moment, though aiming mostly for that was already limiting him some. She just also recognized that she wasn't at full strength, and even some hits that would normally only slow down a Nation ran a real chance of knocking her out completely, because the last thing her struggling immune system needed was a gunshot wound to deal with.
Using the fact that he really wasn't aiming to kill, she managed to get surprisingly close to him before she inevitably screwed up. She was almost to a point where she would consider trying to throw a knife or just shoot the man when she missed a step, missed a bullet, and nearly crumpled when she realized she'd let one of the bullets slice through the back of her leg. The only thing that stopped her from falling to the ground was Natalya's sheer pain tolerance, fortunately high (though one could consider it rather unfortunate that she had built up such a tolerance that she was still standing on a leg that was causing pain that was making her vision swim in and out), and the fact that she had enough of a sense of balance that she could shift almost all of her weight to the other leg before diving to the ground.
She let out a string of curses in some blend of Belarusian, Russian, and Lithuanian, though she at least attempted to do so quietly, hoping that she wasn't an easier target. While she'd remained standing for a minute on that leg, she'd dove to the ground for a reason: she wasn't walking on that, let alone running on it, for some time now. She really had been too tired and distracted for this, if she'd managed to put herself in a position where the back of her leg had gotten torn up. She looked at it before promptly deciding she shouldn't look at it too much until she had time for it. It looked like, at least, it was a relatively clean cut, not that it helped, since it had definitely torn up the muscle in her leg enough that moving on it was going to be relatively impossible.
Growling to herself from where she was on the ground, she looked up through her slightly blurred vision, looked at Germany, pulled out her pistol, and shot. This time, she was closer, but she was also shooting from the ground. She almost expected it to go wide. So she aimed for his center and hoped it would hit something despite all odds and that she'd get herself out of this mess as a result.
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Post by Germany - Ludwig Wilhelm on Aug 12, 2015 18:35:21 GMT -5
It's a good thing that Germany isn't easily driven to panic, or her might have done so when Natalya proves to be a difficult target at first. Italy surely would have, but he knows better than to panic when the first shots are unsuccessful - you only need one good shot, and it could very well be the last one, but it's less likely to be a good shot if you panic too soon. And his patience with the situation brings a good result - he sees one of his shots impact on her leg. The balance has now shifted even further into his favor.
And, eager to capitalize on the situation, he responds to her fall to the ground by jumping onto his feet. Though he doesn't consider himself to be safe from her yet - most people, including her, fight all the more furiously when they're cornered and he expects her to try something. But they're quite a bit closer to each other than they were before, so though he's not surprised when she lifts her pistol to shoot, he is a hair too slow to dodge the bullet completely - aiming for his core is a good move, since it's not a small target at all. Then again, he wasn't so arrogant when he left camp earlier that he neglected to put on his body armor. Just because, as a nation, he doesn't need to worry about getting himself permanently killed doesn't mean that bullets don't hurt and that he doesn't appreciate the extra protection. He'll still get a bruise on his side from the force of it, but that's much better than it penetrating.
The instant he feels the impact he charges forward - hoping that the shot preoccupied her enough that he'll be able to reach her before she fires another, though if she does the odds that she'll manage to get in a shot that actually stops him is quite low in this situation. When he reaches her, the first thing he does is make a grab for her gun so that he doesn't have to worry about more bullets flying at him anymore, then he steps back a pace and aims his rifle at her head. "Are you going to make me kill you, or vill you surrender and save your strength for a fight you can vin?" he asks. They both know that she still has her daggers, and they both know what she can do with them, but he's reluctant to actually kill her - he's seen how weak she is at the moment and would rather avoid making her go through what would no doubt be a lengthy recovery. And he suspects that he can afford to pause one last time to leave it up to her - even if she makes a grab for her daggers, he's confident that he'd make such an easy headshot before she could take him down.
What she'll decide to do with that offer is something he won't bother to speculate about - he honestly has no idea. As evidenced by her earlier refusal to agree to talk, she's clearly quite upset with him so he wouldn't put it past her to ignore all reason and try to attack him again anyway. Though he's hopeful that she'll see the sense in listening to him - even though he's sure that she'd only do so in order to increase the odds that she'll be able to catch him with his guard down.
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Post by Belarus - Natalya Arlovskaya on Aug 17, 2015 21:51:32 GMT -5
It should be mentioned that Natalya didn't actually care about the fact that it was Germany she was fighting, other than, for the moment, the fact that he is significantly stronger than she is. She'd fight viciously, true, but she fights viciously and unfairly against everyone she fights against. She desperately wanted to avoid talking, true, but she wanted to avoid talking with anyone at all, really. The fact that it was Germany was just a fact that blended into her mind. She wanted to stab things, not talk to them, because she wasn't certain what she'd end up saying if she started talking.
At the moment? Quite possibly more curse words, because her leg hurt like all the icy tendrils of hell. She wasn't going to be standing on that soon at all, and even if she stopped the bleeding, it would take far, far more time than she had to get back up onto it, even if she got the bleeding to stop somehow. She heard first, rather than saw, Germany approaching her again, and, admittedly, scrambled a little bit more for her pistol than she should have. She wasn't going to exactly stop him, though. She was fairly certain she was out of bullets, and while she'd at least had the foresight to control where she wound up on the ground, that didn't necessarily put her in a good position to reload.
So when he comes up to grab her own gun, that's not what her firmer grip is on anymore, anyway. Her "dominant" hand, the visible one, that one's still holding a gun. But Natalya had long ago taught herself to be ambidextrous, so her other hand, firmly gripped on one of her daggers, was no less capable of tearing Germany apart viciously if he stepped too close. Unfortunately, he doesn't stay close long enough for her to make a move, so she just leaves her hand where it is and glares at him. She grips her hand hard around her knife, tenses up, and very, very nearly tries to stab Germany with it anyway.
Something might have gone differently, though, if her head hadn't caught up with her stitched-up, messed-up heart and realized that this was a fight she'd never had an intention of winning, and if, upon realizing that she'd been bracing for the bullet instead of for a real attack, she hadn't nearly forgotten to breathe.
She tensed further, her expression noticeably flickering, some realization quickly flashing through her eyes. Her position got even more defensive, her body unconsciously curling into itself for a moment, or at least, almost doing so as much as she could. She breathes out. Her expression is harder. A little tension bleeds away, but her body language still locks her off in a safe somewhere on her own. She breathes in. She breathes out. "Fine," she hisses.
She has her pride, but Natalya, for one rare moment, had realized that she'd gone into this as much to destroy herself as she'd gone into it to fight others. Besides, she is almost completely lying. From where she is, attacking Germany would be- it would be- it wouldn't work. The moment Germany lets his guard down, and she tears him down as best she can, she figures out a way to call for help. She never says the words "I surrender," either (and if only he'd phrased it different, she wouldn't feel so weak, but she feels weaker for the other option).
It's only temporary. That doesn't mean that everything about her can't radiate discomfort, anger, and a small amount of visible pain (she's very good at only showing the tip of the iceberg by now). Now that she's made a choice, though, she's immediately impatient. "Well? What do you want," she growls. She'll deal with it for a moment, then take advantage of the situation the moment she gets the opportunity.
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Post by Germany - Ludwig Wilhelm on Aug 21, 2015 1:44:38 GMT -5
It's not wise to corner anything more vicious than you are, and while Germany is self-conscious enough about his past that he'd never claim that he hasn't been vicious, clearly he's not the most vicious out of the two of them at the moment. He literally doesn't want to hurt her - though he has other priorities that come before that desire, as evidenced by his earlier willingness to shoot her. And though he can't read her mind, much of her behavior has been an ample demonstration that she certainly isn't opposed to harming him. So putting her into this situation is inherently foolish. But foolishness can be mitigated by a healthy dose of care and caution, so of course he's employing both.
Which is why he's taking the precaution of keeping his distance from her, never mind that she doesn't took like she's about to jump to her feet any time soon. He very much respects how dangerous she is even in this condition, which he demonstrates further when she indicates her surrender - by not reacting to the word indicating as much. It's not that he misunderstood what she meant by it, even though she avoids saying the actual words. But there's a problem with this situation, that he voices when she asks what he wants. "First I vant you to acknovledge that there is a difference betveen a verbal surrender and a physical one," he states rather simply.
He knows that she's most likely waiting for him to put his guard down. And he also knows that he's going to have to put it down at some point - there's just no avoiding that. But to put it down just because someone says that they surrender would be an exceedingly stupid idea, and long is the list of people who have had that come back to bite them - including him on more occasions than he'd admit to. So he's not prepared to even relax his hold on his rifle yet, though at least he does what he considers to be the kindness of not barking out orders about exactly how he'd like her to surrender. He figures that she knows her options - the jist of all of them being that he'd like to see her hands as far away from anywhere she might have hidden a dagger on herself as possible. That would make him feel much better, actually.
"And then I vant to prove to you that German food is in all vays better than Russian food. You have never had my Kuchen - this must be remedied," he states, with absolutely no trace of humor or even friendliness - he might as well be negotiating a point that he's displeased with in a treaty for all the seriousness there is in his voice and expression.
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Post by Belarus - Natalya Arlovskaya on Aug 30, 2015 1:35:47 GMT -5
Natalya knows she's in a bad position, but that fact is slowly becoming more and more painfully clear to her. She doesn't like having a full range of motion very much. Her every instinct, after all, had long told her to always find a way out, but the main problem with a leg injury was that she could not move. Even if she managed to slit Germany's throat now without getting shot (and no, getting shot was not an acceptable option), she'd still be trapped. It showed in her eyes, just barely, as they continued to occasionally scan the situation for any threat, visible or invisible to anyone but her.
She nods her head quietly. "Of course there is," she snaps, her words still acidic in tone. Of course there was a difference between a verbal surrender and a physical one. This one just felt very, very nastily like a physical surrender. He was standing above her and Natalya hated it, because she couldn't do anything. She was also refusing to affirm that she had actually surrendered in any way, even if, in a way, she had. She also refuses to say a word beyond that- if Germany was subtly trying to ask her if she was giving either kind, then she wasn't answering.
Natalya doesn't even really move her hands- there's one that's free, but there's still one wrapped around a dagger. She's not about to use it. She knows that she can't, at least, not at the moment, but she prefers to feel like she still at least has some tiny modicum of control. At least like this, she knows that she won't let him get too close. She wonders what kind of revenge he'd choose to take at this point. It's what she would do, in this situation, given what she's done to him recently. It only makes sense.
Even, though, if that hadn't been on her mind, Natalya still would have been thrown for a loop when Germany speaks next. For once, she doesn't really have a handle on her expression at all, because the statement seemed to be so completely out of left field. She stares at him, completely nonplussed, and remains stunned silent for a good second. "What." Honestly, her expression is nearly distressed for a moment, before she schools it back to normal, because she's not really certain how to handle this. This isn't what she's used to.
She can't help but worry. "What do you mean by that? I do not understand..." she says, her voice somewhere between completely baffled and utterly furious. She growls quietly to herself, mostly maintains eye contact, and shakes her head, trying to shake off the sheer unexpectedness of that comment. She's actually somewhat angry about it, even, just because it's out of place, frustrating, and objectively useless.
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Post by Germany - Ludwig Wilhelm on Sept 6, 2015 0:10:30 GMT -5
If Belarus wasn't quite badly hurt, they wouldn't be having this conversation - and this is something that Germany is very well aware of. However, just like he doesn't take her implied surrender at face value, he knows that he can't take her physical condition for granted either. The problematic thing is that there's a fine line between being injured too badly to fight properly and injured but still able to put up a fight - especially when you're dealing with someone as determined and tenacious as Natalya. And he doesn't know how close to that line she is, and though he knows that she's hardly at the full strength of a nation she'd still heal faster and better than a human would - just not as fast as he would.
So he hasn't the slightest idea about how much time he really has until he needs to worry about her getting back on her feet - minutes? hours? days? But since he's currently unwilling to shoot her unless she does something to make him, and she's currently unwilling to surrender properly, they're in a bit of a stalemate. Something will give eventually, but they've reached equilibrium for the moment. So he decides not to not say anything further on the subject, since it seems like that would be pointless.
Given that situation, and what he's sure that she thinks of him, he's not surprised by her reaction to what he said next. "Kuchen is cake, German cake. There are many different kinds, but I vas speaking of Prasselkuchen - it's very good. Not as good as my Käsekuchen, but I don't have the ingredients for that. Though if you'd rather have Apfelkuchen, I think that I could manage it," he explains, as if that were the only thing that might have been at all confusing about what he'd said. In spite of the conversational nature of what he's saying, he's watching her very carefully - his expression still extremely serious. He heard the note of fury in her voice, and that has him on full alert - ready for trouble.
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Post by Belarus - Natalya Arlovskaya on Sept 6, 2015 16:28:47 GMT -5
Sometimes, Natalya found human beings and other nations far, far more baffling than most anything else. One day, she'd think she had figured out the key to playing them like strings, and other days, she remembered that, even as emotions guided most people's actions, emotions were hardly logical. Not her own emotions, not anyone else's. She'd never been the best at empathy, either, so sometimes her predictions for how other people would act would slide painfully off the mark in one direction or another.
That was not, however, an acceptable explanation here. Germany's expression was serious, but the words that were coming out of his mouth did not match up whatsoever. Her own expression slid into something that made it clear she wasn't certain whether to scream in frustration, laugh hysterically, or stab something, and was maybe close to doing all three at once. She had to be misunderstanding something. It was blood loss. Possibly. Because was he offering her cake? Why the hell was he offering her cake?
Maybe it was a case of her head screwing up her English, which- well, it had happened once or twice, recently, but it had normally been accompanied by such a blinding headache that she avoided being near anyone altogether, because of the facts that it would be difficult to hide that she was in pain, the fact that she'd be shorter with people than normal, and the sheer frustration of only being able to speak a language she'd spent a lot of time and effort to become fluent in with slow words, sometimes the wrong words coming out altogether (it had been horrible, terrible, as a child, and hadn't stopped now).
But her head didn't blazingly hurt and her words earlier hadn't had the slight slur over them that was the sign of a truly terrible day, so that couldn't be it, so he was genuinely offering her cake. He was actually, genuinely just offering her- she shook her head for a moment. She had been staring at him, something unreadable on her face, though some of it was definitely anger at the fact that he continued to insist on talking like he was completely and utterly insane.
She took a deep breath. "You just shot me. I tortured you. I literally cannot walk right now. We are on opposite sides of a war. And you are- you are offering me cake?" Her words were slow and carefully enunciated, just in case she really was understanding things wrong, but no, it was working just fine. She paused. "Have you gone completely mad?"
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Post by Germany - Ludwig Wilhelm on Sept 20, 2015 23:55:38 GMT -5
The problem that Belarus is having with him right now is the fact that she has a picture in her mind of what Germany is suppose to be like, and it just isn't true. Perhaps it was accurate at one point, but that was quite some time ago. And he doesn't really blame her for that - they didn't exactly interact very much between wars or since this war started so she hasn't really had the opportunity to see that he's different now. Or at least he tries really hard to be different. So if she thinks of him as being the same person he was before, he will not fault her for that.
On the other hand, she seem to be greatly resistant to the idea of changing that opinion. He also doesn't blame her for that, especially since he figures it's a part of her misguided loyalty toward her brother, but that is presenting a problem. He did figure that she's probably not in the best of moods at this precise moment in time, but even when she was in a better mood she'd been unwilling to entertain the idea that he isn't a completely horrible person. And as understanding as he is about why she would feel that way and the fact that she continues to do so, it's not something that he'd like to continue. Even if he has to essentially beat her over the head with the concept.
He listens silently as she explains her thoughts on his offer, not all that surprised by her reaction. He supposes that he'd react similarly if it was him. "Nein, I am not offering you cake, I am insisting," he responds easily, but he does add, "Perhaps this is crazy, but I don't think so." Attempting to further explain his actions, he continues by saying, "I only shot you because I vant to talk to you, but you refused and so I need to force the issue. And, ja, you tortured me, but I deserved it from you and I've suffered vorse - of course, I'm sure you could have done better if you'd not had so much on your mind. And, ja, you can't valk, but this means I have a strong advantage in this situation - I can afford to be that much more generous vith you. And though you fight on the opposite side of the var, it vas not your choice to join the var, vas it? Either vay, just because ve are at var does not mean that I can't give you cake." He could probably say much, much more than that, but he decides that's enough. She can't argue with that last point, after all.
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Post by Belarus - Natalya Arlovskaya on Sept 21, 2015 18:53:43 GMT -5
Natalya still can't quite get past the cake thing. Maybe she's being a little bit ridiculous about this, but did no one else find this strange? Was she in some alternate universe where straight-laced military geniuses shot people in the legs and offered them cake? Was she in some alternate universe where anyone at all would offer her cake in this situation? Even Iryna wouldn't do something quite so non sequitur! Offer medical assistance, certainly. Offer cake? That just- why?
True, Germany had given his argument, but just because it had some strange thread of logic didn't mean it made sense! In fact, while she'd never paid much attention to these things, she was pretty sure there was some fallacy inherent in a claim like "just because X is true doesn't mean Y can't be true". That seemed to be missing truth. Yes, just because they were fighting didn't mean he couldn't offer her cake, but that didn't mean there was actually any reason to offer her cake! She couldn't argue with it because it wasn't actually an argument-
-she really just needed to move past this and accept it, didn't she? Her expression remained mostly incredulous, because for some reason (probably because it was late at night and her frame of mind was already a mess), this was driving her to distraction. "Do you just take cake onto the battlefield or something? Because that does not make sense. None of this makes sense!" There was a flicker in her voice that neared petulance. Yes, she was aware that she was making a bigger deal out of this than she should. Then again, it was distracting her from other thoughts.
Also, the comment about the torture: she'd take that as a compliment. Yeah. She wasn't quite certain if "you could have been even more terrible" was supposed to be a compliment, and if so, it seemed slightly backhanded, but given the context, she was fairly certain that it was meant to be one. Which was also odd and did not fit into any social framework that Natalya could think of. None of this did. It had nothing to do with the fact that it was Germany sitting there; had her brother or her sister or Toris or Alfred or Poland or anyone else tried something similar, she'd be reacting almost identically, because it did not fit in Natalya's picture of normal human behaviors.
She took another moment to calm down, another moment to remain incredulous, before breathing out and deciding she should probably try to let it go. "...fine. Let's say I accept this cake, and let's assume it's not poisoned because everything's already ridiculous, let's just assume you aren't taking the only remaining logical action." Okay, she wasn't over it, but to be fair, it made no sense! She also felt slightly ridiculous. That was clearly Germany's fault, as, under normal circumstances, she wouldn't even entertain saying something so very silly. "What then? Do you have anything else worth listening to to say? What would that mean?"
She just wanted to get past the cake thing, honestly.
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do not forget me
About thirty years ago, Israel's boss was assasinated. By who, well, no one knows, but Israel immediately blamed Iran. Of course, that alone wouldn't have started World War III, even though Israel and Iran's various allies declared war in quick succession.
Nah, the nuclear bomb in the middle of Jerusalem probably did it.
Now? Now the rest is history. The world's been at war for thirty years, thirty years of bloodshed and pain. No one else has reached for the nuclear option quite yet, but no one's happy. So if we all die- well, do not forget me, okay?
updates
10/15/2020 Do Not Forget Me: a dark hetalia RPG is re-opened!
credits
Do Not Forget Me was created by Waffles and Jonathan and amazing layout and coding is thanks to SO-4 . Content is copyrighted to Do Not Forget Me unless otherwise stated. The skin is created by Wolf of Gangnam Style. The board and thread remodel is by Kagney The mini-profile remodel is by Trinity Blair of Adoxography. Thanks!
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